TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER
an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile
feverishly writing and photographing the distance between us, bodies, moments of pleasure, bullets and flesh, whip tickling open old wounds, i ... i want to play hooky. click off my eye, as if it would never become a phantom appendage, strong limb now space once occupied, the ache for lost territory, an ache, dull and thudding, seeking recompense.